


Beholden to the Enemy

by alicambs



Series: Friends and Enemies [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-21
Updated: 2010-03-21
Packaged: 2017-10-08 04:51:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/72874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicambs/pseuds/alicambs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The American Code V's or vampires are not prepared to leave either Mulder or Krycek alone. In the mean time, someone else has their eye on Mulder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beholden to the Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> Written March 2003
> 
> I was asked if I was going to do a sequel to 'Sleeping with the enemy'. I thought I wasn't, apparently I was and this is the result. Once I got into it I thoroughly enjoyed continuing the story and have further to go still.

Mulder sighed, crossed his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. "It doesn't make sense," he muttered.

Scully looked up briefly from her computer screen before returning to her reading.

Mulder's gaze roamed restlessly around the uninspiring interior of the motel room before settling on his partner. His expression relaxed slightly, and he stretched and stood up. "I need a run, Scully, want to check out anything worth eating in? I'll be about forty five minutes."

Scully eyed him curiously for a second before nodding. "Don't be too long, I could do with a decent meal today," she cautioned.

Mulder gave her a quick smile. "I'm sure we could do better than that diner last night." He grinned at her brief shudder as he pulled out his jogging pants and running shoes from his bag and headed for the bathroom. When he came out she'd closed down her laptop and was sitting on one of the beds leafing through the phone book. He did a few warm ups, gave her a wave and headed out of the door.

He needed fresh air and space, and time out from the investigation. He checked for traffic and crossed the road relaxing into his stride as the sidewalk became less busy. He'd seen a small park nearby and thought he'd head for it. He entered the gates and moved to running on grass, enjoying the physical effort. The weather was warm and dry, a contrast to the last two day's rain. He focused on his running, and let his mind roam free, sorting through the last few days of the investigation, settling on small details before diverging off onto another track. By the time he'd made his way round the park and back to the nondescript motel, he was feeling far more relaxed. He came to a stop outside his room, and shook himself as he slowly came down off his adrenalin high.

The shower was powerful and hot, and he revelled in the steam and warmth as he wound down. He dressed in comfortable jeans, collected Scully, who looked refreshed, and headed for the car. "Where to?" he asked as he backed out of the parking slot.

"Down town," she said indicating the way. "The receptionist recommended this rib bar that apparently does great salads."

"Sounds good," Mulder said truthfully, and followed her directions.

It was still early when they got there, and the restaurant was just filling up. A matronly looking waitress smiled at them, called them both honey, took their drink orders, and left them with overlarge menus. Drinks served, they ordered, and Mulder sat back, surveying the individual décor. Someone with an unhealthy interest in taxidermy had decked the place out with stuffed animal heads, their dull eyes glinting in the half-light. A stuffed mongoose seemed to be eyeing him with particularly malicious intent and he was relieved to be distracted by his cell phone. He listened for a few seconds, took out his pen and began making notes on the paper napkin. A few minutes later he gave his thanks, and put his cell back in his pocket.

"Lone Gunmen," he said in explanation, reading quickly through his note before placing it in his back pocket. "I asked them to check some things for me."

Scully nodded, distracted by the waitress as she placed a large plate of salad in front of her. "Anything I should know?" she asked, her eyes flicking over the plate incredulously.

Mulder eyed the mound of food with amusement, before transferring his attention to the large pile of sticky ribs, baked potatoes and much smaller salad in front of him. He picked up a rib and took a bite as he watched her inspect the shrimp gracing the top of her salad. "Some details of a previous case," he said, through a mouth full of meat.

Scully eyed him severely and finally picked up her fork. They ate in silence for a while, until he began to feel more than a little full. He wiped his mouth with his napkin, and took a swig of orange juice. "I'm getting a funny feeling about these supposed ritual killings," he said, feeling more like discussing the case.

Scully sat back with a sigh, and laid her fork down. "That was surprisingly good," she said approvingly. She returned her attention to Mulder. "In what way?"

"Like it's a smokescreen for something else," he said, fiddling with a small piece of bread. He smiled as the waitress removed the plates, and began rearranging the salt and pepper. "I've had this feeling of retracing old ground, so I asked the Lone Gunmen to check out something for me." He stilled his hands aware of Scully's irritation with his fiddling. "When I was profiling, Patterson had a difficult case he asked me to help out on. The profile we came up with almost an exact copy of the last victim, and it wasn't until just before we caught the person behind it that I realised that the suspect had studied and copied their last victim's personality traits so exactly that he had killed in his character."   
He shook himself. "It was a nasty case – the killer was a cold, calculating, ruthless bastard who wanted the pleasure of the kill and the satisfaction of placing the blame on a man he hated. What he'd failed to take into account was that the fall guy might start getting a little suspicious, which is why he had to kill him. Doing that destroyed his game plan and he started making mistakes." He stared at the table, not seeing it, but remembering the anger and disbelief the killer had shown when he was arrested. Scully remained silent, and he glanced up at her. "It's just that I keep getting reminded of the case. Not the darkness of it, but the sense that I feel as if this is a performance that someone else has organised."

Scully regarded him closely for a few seconds. "I don't think I like the sound of that," she said calmly. "This was the case you wanted the Gunmen to check for you?"

Mulder shook his head. "No, that one is burned in my memory. It was some of the details of this case that stirred my curiosity. I wanted confirmation on a couple of points."  
Scully stared at him. "And…?" she asked, somewhat impatiently.

Mulder's lip curled slightly. "It's not exact, but some of the more inexplicable details we've found appear to have been copied almost exactly from a couple of the weirder cases I profiled some years back," he said.

Scully frowned. "The supernatural element?" she asked.

Mulder looked at her, a wry grin crossing his face. "Supernatural element, Scully?" he asked, a quiver of laughter in his question.

Scully waved her hand irritably. "It's an X-File, Mulder. Of course it's going to have some kind of bizarre element to it, or we wouldn't have been called in."

Mulder's smile subsided. "Yes," he said seriously. "And that's the problem, I don't believe in them at all, I think they're false. I'm also beginning to think that by being here we are doing more harm than good." He raised his hand as she shook her head. "Okay, I know we've given the Sheriff and his men some good leads, even saved one intended victim, but, and bear with me on this please, Scully, I think we were meant to do exactly as we have."

Scully sighed. "You decided this when, Mulder?" she asked resignedly.

"I was thinking it through when I went out for my run, it fell into place when the guys managed to get into the files and find the exact case I wanted." He saw her frown and headed her off. "I know I could have asked via official channels. But this way was quicker, and to be honest I didn't want anyone else knowing what I was doing so I phoned them."

Scully frowned. "You think the killer is tracking us?"

Mulder nodded. "I think someone is keeping an eye on everything for the killer, or whoever he, she or they are working for."

Scully shook her head. "Mulder this is too bizarre, you're suggesting that this set up was created entirely to pull us in. I mean why, what do they want with us?"

Mulder shrugged. "That's the problem. I think we're almost meant to work towards that conclusion. We're supposed to think that it's some nut who likes the idea of being an X-File, someone who wants the FBI involved, someone who wants to make waves." He raised his hand as she shook her head. "I mean look at the victims, Scully. None of them mourned, all of them fairly dubious characters. The only victim who would have been truly missed was the man we saved."

"It could just be someone on a moral crusade," she argued.

Mulder nodded. "But why no messages to say that? Why no trumpeting about the wrongdoings of the victims? What on earth are we meant to conclude from the hotchpotch of alien type 'clues' hidden carefully at every site, made to look as though they were left by mischance?" He sighed. "It doesn't add up, Scully. The killings are clinical, the perpetrator is not torturing the victims, and the mutilation is almost an after thought. There has been little hue and cry from the public, as the victims didn't exactly get the public sympathy vote. The police and FBI have made the most noise so far."

Scully shifted in her chair and frowned. "So accepting what you say as a possibility, what do you suggest we do?" she asked carefully.

"Tell Skinner our concerns, talk to the Sheriff and his officers, and let it be known that the FBI is withdrawing from the case," Mulder said promptly. "I'm hoping that the withdrawal of focused attention will leave the killer hanging. Maybe even confuse them into acting out of type, unless they are in regular contact with whoever is controlling them."

"And if you're wrong?" Scully asked carefully.

Mulder looked down at the table drawing patterns on it with his fingers. "I hope I'm not," he said quietly.

Scully leaned forward and gently squeezed Mulder's hand. He looked up at her, surprised, but touched by her gesture. "In this type of case you seldom are wrong," she said, patting his hand before sitting back.

Mulder relaxed a little. "So you'll come with me to tell the Sheriff? I get the feeling he's not going to be too pleased," he asked.

Scully yawned, and caught the waitress's eye. "Coffee?" she asked Mulder. He shook his head waiting as she ordered for herself. "Let's get back to the motel. We'll have a good night's sleep, then call AD Skinner, and tell the Sheriff in the morning," she suggested.

Mulder breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay," he said, glad of the slow easing of tension in his guts. "There's a payphone at the motel; I'll use that just in case they've been tracking our phone calls. They'll find out soon enough, but it will give us some time to plan our departure."

Scully shook her head in amusement. "Paranoia really must be your middle name," she said, smiling at him to show she was teasing.

Mulder laughed. "I think the Gunmen probably beat me on that front," he said with amusement.

Scully shook her head again. "You'll have to tell me how you met those three," she said dryly.

Mulder grinned. "And that's a tale of paranoia in itself."

"Figures," Scully said, and took a sip of coffee, as Mulder relaxed bonelessly in the seat, and felt more cheerful than he had in days.

They returned to the motel, said their goodbyes, and Mulder drifted off into much need sleep in front of the flickering TV.

His conversation with Skinner the next day was relatively easy. Skinner listened to him without interruption, although he had a brief tongue lashing for circumventing the official channels. When he drew to his conclusion there was a moment's pause while Skinner considered his recommendation.

"What will you do if the killing continues?" he eventually asked.

"I'll be supporting the sheriff in the background, sir," Mulder assured him. "I just want to make it look as if we're leaving. I want the attention off the killer in the hope that we push him out of character, or, as I said, reveal the person I think may be pulling the strings in the background."

Skinner grunted. "Don't these types of killers just want attention, Mulder? What if they up the killing spree to get the FBI back?"

Mulder closed his eyes. "I have that worry in the back of my mind, sir," he acknowledged. "I'm basing my suggestions on the profile I have drawn and what it's telling me."

Skinner sighed again. "We could be taking a huge risk, Mulder."

"I know, sir," Mulder said quietly.

There was silence from the end of the phone. Mulder twisted the cord tightly wondering if he was foolish to be paranoid over using his cell.

"Okay, I'll ring the sheriff and have a quiet word with him now," said Skinner with a sigh. "You and Scully pack, organise your departure, and talk with him. Do you want to make a big scene of your leaving?"

"No, sir. We'll do this quietly. We'll be seen to leave, then I'll keep in contact with the sheriff and return quietly to see if we can clear up just who's been playing us."

"Keep me informed, Mulder," Skinner ordered, and broke contact.

Mulder sighed heavily and replaced the phone, smiling at the receptionist and hoping that she was far enough away not to have heard anything of the call. He settled the bill, and headed back to Scully. She had her bag packed and was placing it in the trunk of the car as he approached. He felt a surge of affection for her as he noted her confidence in his ability to persuade their boss and gave her a warm smile as she straightened up.

"We'll check in with the sheriff next, Scully. I'll get my bag and meet you out here."  
She nodded, and he headed for his room. He'd packed most of his stuff, and it was a couple of minutes before he closed the door and headed for the car. When he arrived Scully was nowhere to be seen. He looked around for a bit before heading for reception. Along the way a woman stopped him and began to ask him questions about the next town. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry ma'am, he said politely, "I'm a stranger here myself."

She smiled at him and nodded. As he moved to walk away he felt another presence close behind him. He turned round quickly, but failed to get out of the way of the encompassing hand that covered his mouth and nose with a cloth. He tasted and smelt something foul, and his vision blurred. As his knees trembled and he collapsed, he realised that his ploy to flush out the perpetrators of the crimes might have worked a lot quicker than he had anticipated.

~~~~~~

He woke in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. He sat up slowly, the lingering effects of the drug making his head swim. Dropping his head in his hands he tried to sort through his memories of what the hell had happened to him, but could only remember the tourist and then blackness. He slowly swung his feet and sat on the edge of the bed, somewhat taken aback to find that the sheets, and the pyjamas he found himself dressed in, were silk. The rug was soft and warm under his feet, and he chanced a slow look around the room. It was beautifully decorated. Paintings and rugs covered most of the walls while an entire wall was devoted to the display of some pretty impressive looking books.

Mulder rubbed his eyes in disbelief; his host or hosts obviously wanted to give the impression that they were concerned for his comfort and well-being. Shaking his head in confusion he started looking for his clothes. Failing to find them he decided to deal with his pressing need to urinate first before doing anything further. He slowly stood and unsteadily headed towards the first door he could see. It turned out to be an enormous bathroom with the most incredible shower that he had ever seen. Mulder relieved himself, and mesmerised by the shower explored it. Nozzles were sited all over the walls and he wondered what it would feel like to stand in the spray. His curiosity got the better of him, and despite his worries over the bizarre situation; he stripped, got in and turned it on. The sensation was better than he'd expected. He adjusted a few sprays, and enjoyed the invigorating pounding of the water, stretching his hands above his head and moving in the spray. Having located the soap and shampoo, he washed his hair and soaped himself down, after checking that he wouldn't end up smelling of too floral a fragrance. Reluctantly he finished feeling considerably more alert, grabbed a towel, and wandered back into the room to look for his clothes. He couldn't find his suit anywhere, but draped over one of the numerous chairs he found a pair of very good quality jeans in his size, a black t-shirt and a pair of silk boxers. There being nothing else on offer, he dressed, uncomfortably aware that everything was such a good fit that he felt as if the jeans were moulded to him. He briefly wondered if he could sit down in the damn things. Running his fingers through his hair, he began another search for his shoes, only to come up empty again.

Mulder sighed; he didn't like the way this was going. He checked the door, unsurprised to find it locked and headed for the drapes and tugged them. Nothing moved, so he checked the walls for pulls. Again nothing, so he slipped behind them and looked out blinking into the bright sunshine and a magnificent view of mountains. A manicured lawn complete with obligatory sprinklers stretched out below him, and he could see figures on horses in the distance. The sound of the door opening caught his attention and he hurried out from behind the drapes coming face to face with a tall, angular looking man dressed formally in a suit.

The man gave a brief bow. "The master asks you to join him," he said, indicating the door.

Mulder eyed him with interest. "Where are we, who does this place belong to, where are my shoes and what time is it?" he asked, as he followed the man along the long corridor and down the spiral staircase.

"The master will explain," the man said.

"I'd like you to tell me," Mulder persisted.

The man said nothing further, carrying on down the stairway before heading to a pair of double doors and opening them. "Fox Mulder to see you, sir," he said, and bowed leaving Mulder to walk into the sumptuously carpeted room alone.

At the end of a beautifully polished table sat a tall, upright figure. He put down the letter he was reading and stood up, walking to greet Mulder enthusiastically.

"I've been so looking forward to meeting you," he said charmingly, gripping Mulder's hand and shaking it. "My name is Paul Glendale, usually just referred to as the master. Come; breakfast is ready. The scrambled eggs have been cooked to perfection, as has the bacon. I have an excellent chef and kitchen staff, and they know just how much I enjoy my food."

Mulder listened to him incredulously. He had a feeling that he ought to know something about this man, but as yet his memory hadn't supplied him with any information. He was tall and solid looking, probably in his late forties, early fifties, ruggedly handsome in a cowboy type of way with piercing blue eyes and sleek black hair showing silver grey at his temples. He had a deep voice with a slow Texan drawl that irritated Mulder immediately. He shook his head. "Mr Glendale, I'd be far happier if you would tell me just what I'm doing here, where my clothes, gun, phone and ID are, and where my partner is?" He glanced at his bare arm and looked round the room for a clock of some type, "and what day it is?"

"Doctor Scully is absolutely fine and at this moment in time probably back at FBI headquarters, Fox. I'll take you for a walk round the house and a ride round the estate after we've breakfasted, but for now I wish to eat." Glendale waved him towards a chair.

"My name is Mulder," Mulder said automatically, hoping that he was telling the truth about Scully being out of danger.

Glendale looked at him. "I'm aware of that, Fox, but I personally find your first name rather attractive."

Mulder shook his head. "I prefer to be called Mulder," he said firmly. "I also don't eat with people who won't give me the courtesy of answering my rather pressing questions."

Glendale smiled. "Then you will remain hungry while I feast," he said simply. He took a plate and moved toward a side table where heated dishes were laid out. He picked the lid off the first one and spooned in a good helping of eggs.

Mulder turned abruptly and walked back towards the door. He was disappointed, but unsurprised to find it locked. He moved towards the windows, finding that they too were locked. He looked around the room wondering if he could use anything to break the windows. It might not help him escape, but he thought it might ruffle the calm exterior of his host.

"It's unbreakable," Glendale said, through a mouthful of food. "You'll only end up hurting yourself if you try anything. Come, Fox, you are not leaving this room until I say so. You may as well sit down and eat."

Mulder stayed by the window assessing his host. The man looked both fit and muscular, certainly not a push over if it came to a fight.

Glendale looked up. "I'm quite capable of defending myself, Fox. I'm both taller and heavier than you so you can put aside any idea of jumping me." He waved at a chair. "Please do sit. I will answer all of your questions after breakfast, until then I can not be forced into revealing anything."

Mulder sighed; he collected a plate, took some food, and sat a few chairs away from Glendale. Silently, he ate the food and once replete got up and helped himself to a cup of coffee. He looked round the room again as Glendale continued to eat and read his correspondence. Everything he'd seen since opening his eyes screamed wealth and taste. Nothing over the top, but he'd bet his bottom dollar that the paintings on the wall were originals. He viewed a possible Escher, or Escher imitator, with interest. He found the altered perspective on these types of paintings absolutely fascinating, and became absorbed in tracing the contours of the staircase.

"It's a distracting painting," Glendale said, conversationally.

Mulder glanced at the man before returning his attention to the object in question.

"I obtained it ten years ago from an ailing museum in Europe," Glendale continued; apparently content to talk to the back of Mulder's head. "They really didn't want to sell it, but I was persuasive. Like all of my collection it is rare, beautiful and well cared for. I keep the temperature of the house consistent day and night throughout the year. Many of the precious artefacts have are very fragile and require specialised treatment and conditions." He gave dramatic sigh. "It can become rather an exact science at times, but I want to be able to see my collection and use it where possible. Beautiful things lose their lustre if they are not admired by those that truly appreciate them don't you think, Fox?"

Mulder turned to stare blankly at the man, replaying the man's comments as he did so. He cleared his throat and shook his head. "Since I'm not a collector, I wouldn't know," he said wryly, thinking of his cluttered and shabby apartment with something like affection. " If an object becomes more beautiful the more it is admired then surely displaying them in a museum for everyone to see will only increase their value."

Glendale shook his head smiling. You obviously do not have the soul of a connoisseur, Fox," he said.

Mulder glanced at him. "There are other things that are more important, Mr Glendale, and the right of every citizen not to be kidnapped and deprived of their freedom is one of them. Could we skip the art history lesson and get to the part where you explain why you have abducted me?"

Glendale wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin, took a sip of coffee and stood up. "Abduct is such a harsh word, Fox. Come, let me show you my house," he suggested, waving Mulder towards the door.

Reluctantly Mulder followed him, watching carefully to see where the keys were kept. Glendale glanced at him, smiled, took a card from his pocket and ran it down a small scanner at the side. He pocketed the card and opened the door waving Mulder through into the large hall and stairwell. As they left the dining room two men joined them. Mulder checked them over, automatically categorising them as hired muscle. Glendale nodded to the one on his right, and both men dropped a few yards behind them.

"I'll show you the downstairs rooms Fox," Glendale said, as he headed towards the other side of the stairs. "This is the formal lounge, large and useful for entertaining," He drew Mulder in and waved at the room.

Once again it was ornate and beautiful. Glass cases dotted around the place, beautiful artefacts were arranged on tables, exquisite drapes hung at every window and paintings, sculptures filled every available space. One struck Mulder in particular, a large wooden carving of a nude man, his arms held high above his head, his head leaning back and an expression of bliss on his face. Mulder could imagine the man standing in a waterfall or something similar as the artist had managed to convey an illusion of water on the skin and hair. He wandered towards it and stroked reverently down the wood, finding himself thinking of Krycek as he did so. The sculpture had a raw sensuality about it that he found very familiar and highly appealing.

"You are not completely without taste, Fox," Glendale murmured. "This is one of my favourite pieces. The artist is now a very wealthy man."

Mulder moved away from Glendale his eyes still lingering on the carving. He roamed around the room, his eye caught by a golden Faberge egg. He leaned close, awed by the artistry that could achieve something so clever in such minute detail while wondering whether he didn't find the thing just a little too ornate. He glanced over a Glendale who had remained by the statue an amused smile on his face. Grateful that the man was keeping his distance Mulder continued to roam, touching jewellery, peering at ornate glass covered manuscripts, viewing half remembered paintings, and tracing designs on furniture.

He turned to the watching Glendale and waved at the room. "How many years has it taken you to collect these?" he asked.

Glendale laughed. "I've been collecting since my teens, Fox. When I inherited my father's fortune and built it up I let my desire for the rare and beautiful travel wide and far."

Mulder nodded. "Anyone could take any of these," he said, picking up a fascinating interlocking ring and tracing the way the five parts locked together with his finger. "How do you manage not to lose things?"

"Tight security and tagging of the large items," Glendale answered as he waved Mulder out of the room and into a huge dining room. "Everything is checked twice a day. People scanned as they leave and enter. This is my main house, my home. I want the pleasure of being surrounded by these beautiful things in a natural setting, not locked away in glass cabinets."

He waved around the room again and Mulder surveyed the furniture and china on view, becoming a little overwhelmed by the sheer number of things to look at. By the time Glendale had finished the tour of the ground floor he was on overload. Glendale looked him over, smiled and ushered him into large, comfortable looking study.

Mulder sat in a leather armchair and waited for Glendale to sit. "Impressive," he said truthfully. "But what has this got to do with me?"

Glendale sat back in his chair and smiled at him. "I saw you on television some months ago, Fox. Not a particularly good picture, and you were highly reluctant to be interviewed. I believe it was about some weird monster." He smiled. "I was intrigued and asked someone to find out more about you. The photos he took of you intrigued me further and the list of your achievements and skills was impressive. One of the best profilers in the FBI, do you know how much the Special Crimes unit want you and your skills back where they think you belong?"

Mulder remained silent, highly concerned as to where this strange conversation was heading.

Glendale continued. "I followed your upbringing, your sister's abduction, your career path. Your quest for The Truth, your run ins with authority, your partners, your friends, your enemies and your lovers."

Mulder tried to repress a flinch at the word as his mind catalogued Krycek's random visits over the past months.

Glendale smiled. "I even learned about this Consortium you fight, and discovered that they consider you even more special than I'd realised." He looked at Mulder who had gone still and pale at the slow recital. "Were you aware that you have alien genes in your genetic makeup, Fox?"

Mulder closed his eyes and clenched his fists. "I think you have been misled," he said as calmly as possible as he struggled to fight the scream bubbling to the surface. "I'm as human as you are, just ask my doctors."

Glendale smiled. "Here I was faced with a man I found to be both intriguing and beautiful, and next thing I find is that he is also incredibly unique, rare almost. I had to have you, Fox. Make you part of my collection, as well as learn more about this Consortium and the aliens you are so obsessed by. So I created a serial killer specifically to drew you and your partner in, and also to cover my tracks when I eventually had you brought here."

Mulder found he was breathing hard. His anger at the suggestion of any alien heritage, his fury at Glendale's admission of his complicity in the crimes and the man's sheer audacity in believing that he could remove Mulder from his life and work on a whim combining to destroy his attempts at remaining calm. "I'm having problems believing this," he said harshly. "I can't believe that you have just admitted to an FBI agent that you have orchestrated a series of killings just to bring me here, nor can I believe that you think that you have the right to treat a human being like one of your precious artefacts!" He glared at Glendale. "I have important work to do, Glendale, fighting a secret society that you are probably going to be fatally involved with all too soon, and I want out of here." He stood from the chair and faced Glendale. "You think you're powerful enough to ignore the FBI, and maybe you're right. I have no doubt that any attempt of mine to stick the killings on you will end in failure. People like you always have brilliant lawyers to do your dirty work, and fall guys to take the rap. I'd settle for the lesser crime of abduction of a federal agent, but you'll wriggle out of that one as well. My only satisfaction will be in knowing that if I'm as important to the Consortium as you say I am, you're as good as dead if you try to keep me here."

To Mulder's fury Glendale laughed. He stood up and crossed to where Mulder stood. "I don't think you quite understand the situation here, Fox," he said patronisingly. "I've spent months collating information on you. I know everything about you; down to how many fish you have in that tank of yours. I know the layout of your apartment and the colour of your carpets. I know the name of your three loony, but brilliant friends. I know about your relationship with your boss and your partner. I know the films you like to watch, the food you like to eat, the way you like to masturbate, and…" he came closer and whispered in Mulder's ear. "what you look like when you come."

Mulder went pale, backing away from the man, but kept his gaze fixed on Glendale. "What does that prove?" he asked attempting to keep his anger under control. "Other than that you are a sneak and a voyeur? Haven't you got anything better to do?"

Glendale moved forward again. "I enjoy the hunt, Mulder, the harder something is to acquire the more interesting it is to me. I rented out the apartment across the street for a number of months before I created the serial killer," he said, moving forward again as Mulder yet again retreated. "I know your likes, your dislikes, your work and leisure patterns, in fact I have an extensive knowledge of every aspect of your life and frankly it disturbs me. I think a man such as you deserves the best of everything, Fox. Good wine, food, music, entertainment, drugs, sex, company. You need a rich lover who can give you everything and who can show you off in the best of company."

"I've got the life I want," Mulder said quietly, thinking longingly of his partner and his 'drop in' lover. "It may not be luxurious, or rich, or very comfortable at times, but it's my life. Not yours, not my bosses', not my partner's, but mine alone."

Glendale shook his head. "Sometimes a person is too unique an individual to be permitted to do as they want. They need to be placed in the right setting. You are like that, Fox. Desirable, beautiful, sleek, brilliant, and unique."

Mulder took a deep breath and backed a little further away from Glendale. The man was obviously completely deranged. He knew he wasn't handling him as well as he should be as something about Glendale screamed that for all his charm he was a very dangerous man. He gathered his thoughts and made an attempt to appeal to Glendale's commonsense. "Mr Glendale, I'm a fairly ordinary guy, in an interesting job which brings me in contact with the bizarre, the fascinating, the grotesque and the uglier elements of humanity and beyond. I admit to being well educated, a good profiler, obsessive, determined and a little off at times. Beautiful I am certainly not. Like everyone, I want to feel that I'm special, a little unique in my abilities and skills. My partner occasionally accuses me of believing that the world revolves around me. However, I'm realistic enough to know that I'm just a small fish in a big pool. I've sufficient influence to make a few ripples around me and disturb some of the sharks, and if I'm really lucky I'll get others involved in doing the same." He stopped as he felt the door at his back. He grasped the handle and gave it a tentative pull as he faced Glendale. "Lastly, I don't respond well to flattery because I'm always left wondering what the person really wants." He pulled at the door handle again feeling faintly relieved as he felt the door open slightly. Just as he was gathering himself up to fling the door open and run, Glendale slammed into him, grabbed his arms and held his hands above his head. He leaned into Mulder and smiled baring his teeth.

"You're mine, Fox. Collected, soon to be tagged and due to have as much care and attention lavished on you as I can provide." He dropped a kiss on Mulder's lips, and licked along his chin.

Mulder froze in shock, unable to accept what was happening.

Glendale stroked down Mulder's face and continued to talk. "I'll give you everything, Fox. I'll give you luxuries you've never known, and to humour you we'll investigate this Consortium you seem to hate and fear so much."

Mulder began to struggle, desperate to get away from the solid body forcing him to the door. He stopped as he felt a hardness rubbing against his groin. "Get off me," he snarled.

Glendale bent down and licked at his lips again, nibbling along their length. He pulled back and viewed Mulder's face with amusement. "You look even sexier when you're angry, Fox," he said.

Mulder took a deep breath and tried to calm his breathing. The amusement and possessiveness he could hear in Glendale's slow drawl made him shiver with horror. None of his extensive experience had prepared him for dealing with something of this nature. He'd rather be facing Neanderthal throwbacks, aliens and weird monsters any day. As he glared into the eyes above him bits of information about him slowly surfaced from the long forgotten newspaper reports about a billionaire oilman with extensive and eccentric tastes, and had power and influence in politics. He recalled a very beautiful wife, and two playboy sons, and homes around the world. Finding it hard to accept what Glendale implied, he decided to play the realism card. "I can't think that your wife or sons would be too excited by the presence of an abducted FBI Agent in their house, Mr Glendale," he said slowly, hoping that the man would back off him. Glendale smiled down at him and moved a fraction away from him maintaining his grip on Mulder's arms. Mulder continued. "How do you propose to stop your staff from discussing your reluctant guest? I seem to remember you're keen on hosting parties and showing off your new purchases. What are you going to ask me to do, stand naked on a plinth holding a label detailing my 'uniqueness'?" He shook his head. "People aren't objects, like that beautiful carving of yours? Did you buy your wife? Whatever gave you the idea that you could own another human being, Mr Glendale?"

Glendale laughed. "Money, Fox. Money can buy anything. Of course I buy people, I have lawyers, politicians, judges, policemen, you name it I've got them on my pay roll. I've had beautiful men and women obey my every whim in exchange for money and influence."

"I can't believe that you've never met anyone with sufficient integrity to refuse to be paid to do what you want," Mulder countered.

Glendale bared his teeth. "If I want something I have it, Fox. If money won't work, and I have to tell you it usually does, then I have other means of persuasion. What would you do to protect that lovely partner of yours?"

Mulder stiffened, clamping down on any expression at all.

Glendale leant forward and licked his ear. "You've slammed your mask on, Fox," he purred. "You won't be able to hide behind it with me. Do you think I'm a fool? I've been planning this for months and I know enough about your personality to be well aware that you would never willingly accept my hospitality. I told you, I've researched you thoroughly inside and out." He ran his tongue down Mulder's eyelid, making Mulder cringe. "I've a pharmacologist on the premises and she's created a cocktail of drugs specifically designed to keep you calm, obedient and pliable yet able to function. She's added a little aphrodisiac at my request just to keep you on edge. You'll never be left alone, you'll be waited on hand and foot, and if you want relief, my dear, you'll just have to ask me."

Mulder shook his head in stunned disbelief. "You're mad," he said with conviction. "You can't get away with this. My partner and boss will be looking for me. They'll find me eventually and then there'll be hell to pay." And I hope to god Alex starts looking as well, he thought grimly.

Glendale grinned. "They'll think you're long gone at the hands of a serial killer, Fox. Even if they did find you, would Spooky Mulder be prepared to stand up and tell the world that he hated every minute of his luxury captivity? That being a rich man's lover was hell on earth. That the photographs of him enjoying his massage, dinners, swimming, loving, cruises, you name it are all lies. That the men and women who will swear that he was there by choice are all liars?" he shook his head. "I've got every angle sewn up, Fox. So the best thing for you to do is to give in gracefully and take full advantage of everything offered you."

Mulder shuddered. "Why?" he asked angrily. "Why is your twisted and bizarre desire more important than my life and my work? I'm sure there are thousands of men and women who'd kill to come and live in the lap of luxury. Why not offer them the opportunity, because this won't fool anyone that knows me. I'm a workaholic, I'd never willingly become anyone's fuck toy!"

"Because I want you," Glendale said precisely, pushing Mulder away from the door and back towards the leather chair.

"You don't know me," Mulder yelled, his anger getting the better of him as he struggled in Glendale's grip. "You have no idea what motivates or drives me. You can't do this to me!"

Glendale pushed him into the chair, looking up as the door opened. Mulder took his chance and struck out at the man, freeing himself from his grasp and slipping out of the chair. He ran to the door, passing the woman who had been the cause of Glendale's distraction, and flung it open only to run into Glendale's two minders. Struggling he was forced back into the room and down onto the chair, his left arm held firmly out to the side. Trembling with fury he watched as the woman took a hypodermic syringe out of a case checked the contents and advanced towards him.

"Don't do this," he pleaded, looking directly at the woman. She ignored him.

Glendale smiled, nodded to the woman, and Mulder closed his eyes in despair as he felt the needle pierce his skin.

~~~~~~

"I have some interesting news on the whereabouts of our missing FBI Agent," the smoking man said clearly, stubbing his cigarette out in the full ashtray.

Krycek stiffened for an instant before carrying on pouring the drinks. He kept his face calm as he presented the requested whiskey to his employer, and faded into the background like a good little consortium employee.

The smoking man laughed, shaking his head as he did so. "I shouldn't be surprised at anything that happens to Fox Mulder, but I must admit to being very perplexed by the information that was first circulated to me." He leaned forward and inserted a disk in the computer. "My contact managed to film Mulder in some very interesting circumstances." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a cigarette case, pulling a cigarette out and lighting it. Taking a deep breath he sat back letting the smoke slowly drift out of his mouth. "Mulder has been abducted by a man named Paul Glendale." He nodded at the murmurs around the table. "I've also been able to ascertain that the suspected breach into our computer system some months ago was ordered by Mr Glendale, and I think it is now obvious what he was after." He pointed the remote control and a picture of a large ranch appeared on the screen. "This is Glendale's house. Huge, extensive grounds and surrounding farming land some distance from the nearest town. He has a helicopter pad, a fleet of planes and up to date satellite communications. His influence is wide and far ranging, and his greatest interest is in acquiring works of art."

He pointed again and a picture of the man appeared on the screen. Krycek leaned forward and took a long look at him, silently measuring him up. The next picture showed Mulder in a sarong sitting in a chair by a huge swimming pool, Glendale leaning over him with one hand possessively on his thigh. Krycek blinked twice, unable to believe what he was seeing. A babble of small talk suggested that he wasn't the only one to be surprised by Mulder's attire.

"Agent Mulder is apparently Glendale's newest and most prized acquisition." He pointed at the large bracelet around Mulder's left wrist. "He's been tagged, and we suspect he's been given something to keep him nicely docile. My contact reports that if you watch him closely you can see a fine tremor in his hands, and he can occasionally be a little unsteady on his feet." He pointed the remote, and another picture of Mulder appeared this time standing by the pool, a melancholy expression on his face as he stared out into the distance. The next possibly explained Mulder's willingness to wear the sarong, as the bathing suit revealed on him had to be the tiniest amount of material possible. Krycek took a deep breath as a couple of whistles sounded around the room, clenching his hand briefly before relaxing slowly.

The smoking man gave a deep chuckle. "My contact says she's enjoying her assignment. Apparently Glendale is treating Mulder rather like a clothes horse, and she confided to the courier that she and Glendale shared an appreciation for Mulder's ass." Another laugh circled round the room as a few more pictures of Mulder in the thong, and then in tight jeans and t-shirt appeared on screen, followed by more exterior shots of the house.

The smoking man turned the machine off and sat back in his chair. "It appears that our errant Agent Mulder is in no specific danger at present, however this presents us with a problem." He looked round the room. "Glendale has discovered Mulder's genetic history, and he is also aware of us. We have a major breach of security here that is not going to be simple to mop up. This man is too influential to be killed. We can do it, but the repercussions are immense, and unless we are willing to take out Mulder and many of Glendale's top aides, we are going to face possible public disclosure."

Krycek waited impatiently in the silence that followed.

"You are suggesting we negotiate?" one of the grey suited men asked abruptly.

The smoking man nodded. "One possibility. The other is to remove Mulder. He is too useful, too precious a commodity to be wasted. We've been protecting him for years because of what he means to the project. This Glendale might be willing to become an ally if we approach him in the right way or he might decide to work against us. I don't want to take the risk unless we have to. If the worst comes to the worse, we can always threaten to inform the FBI of Mulder's presence."

The suited men looked at each other and then back at the smoking man and nodded. The smoking man smiled, got to his feet and looked round the table. "Thank you, gentlemen," he said, looked at Krycek and left the room.

Krycek followed obediently, desperate to know what was going to happen. He'd been looking for Mulder ever since he'd got wind of his disappearance three weeks ago, but had got absolutely nowhere. The smoking man and Krycek left the building and headed for the parking lot. Krycek got into the driver's seat as the smoking man sat in the back, lighting up one of his interminable cigarettes. He drove back to the man's offices, quietly working his way through the information about Mulder and wondering if he could get any more. He drove into the under ground garage, opened the door for his employer, and followed him into his office.

"Damn him," the smoking man muttered irritably.

Krycek held out a cigarette lighter as his employer flipped a cigarette in his mouth. He watched narrowly as the man drew in a deep breath and slowly relaxed.

"This Paul Glendale," Krycek asked slowly. The smoking man nodded for him to continue. "He's a billionaire, but could he stand the publicity if this came out?"

The smoking man blew out a puff of smoke. "Probably, the person who wouldn't do well out of the publicity is Mulder, and I'm sure you can see why."

Krycek nodded, imagining photos of Mulder in every conceivable state of dress and activity flooding the news. Sex and money always made for great media interest, and Mulder would be probed inside and out, despite being the victim.

The smoker continued. "I obviously want to keep part of the reason for Glendale's interest very well hidden." He leant back in his chair and sighed. "Glendale may have told Mulder about his heritage, which rather forces our hand."

Krycek held his breath in anticipation, slowly letting it out as the man continued.

"Mulder's a hybrid, few people know it, but he's been one of the Consortium's greatest achievements. All our other previous ones died in the womb except for him, and the project was abandoned as we looked for alternatives. We've found other ways of hybridisation, but we've always kept an eye on Mulder, and I personally had and continue to have, high hopes for him. In a way he's done very well for himself, but I think now is the time for him to learn the consequences and obligations of his heritage."

"How did they do it?" Krycek asked before he could stop himself.

The smoker raised his eyebrows. "Very advanced gene splicing techniques, Alex. Beyond my understanding but we had a brilliant scientist working for us then. William Mulder offered his wife, and thought he'd given the genetic material, but he wasn't Mulder's father."

Krycek closed his lips to keep from saying anything.

The smoker puffed away angrily, and Krycek contemplated him thoughtfully. Mulder had long been of great interest to the consortium, but his current employer had always made it appear personal, so much so that the rumours that he was Mulder's father were widely considered to be true. Krycek was more than willing to accept that, and at times had been horrified by the man's prurient interest into every aspect of Mulder's life. In the interests of self-preservation, he'd never offered any comments on Mulder that expressed or showed his own interest in the man, and, as he'd told Mulder, he didn't think the smoker would appreciate knowing that he and Mulder were sleeping together, and even more importantly had started on the long road towards friendship and more.

"I want Mulder out of there," the smoker finally said. "I haven't spent my time guarding his back just for him to be drugged into becoming a rich man's catamite." He turned towards Krycek. "Has Mulder ever shown any interest in men before?" he asked, watching Krycek closely.

Krycek shook his head. "Not that I'm aware of," he said calmly. "He likes women, but never dates, I know he's been propositioned by men, but I'm certain that he's never responded." He looked his employer in the eye and wished that his heart would stop pounding so furiously. " Paul Glendale would be highly unlikely to ever get Mulder to cooperate. To be honest I can't think of a worse choice as a sex slave than Mulder."

The smoker's expression relaxed for a second, almost smiling at the thought. "I can see your point, Alex," he said. "I want him rescued – do you think, you do it?"

Krycek blinked. "With the right information," he said immediately.

The smoker nodded. "I've got blueprints for the mansion's security systems, and someone inside on his staff."

Krycek took a deep breath. "What help can I expect from the person inside?" he asked.

The smoker frowned. "Help with evading the security surrounding the mansion mainly. I've got everything covered, Alex. I wouldn't ask you to do this without full back up." He inhaled slowly and looked closely at Krycek. "Despite your and Mulder's history I think he will be more likely to be cooperative with you than with someone he doesn't know. He'll know why we're helping, and while he won't like it, at least he knows that he can deal."

"Do you want Glendale dead?" Krycek asked, after a moment's silence.

The smoker narrowed his eyes in thought then shook his head. "I'd rather it was done without killing anyone, Alex. Glendale might be a useful ally in the future if we do this the right way."

He's not getting his greedy hands on Mulder again, Krycek thought menacingly, wondering if he could rough the man up a little.

The smoker inhaled slowly blowing out a long stream of smoke a few seconds later. "Take a couple of helpers, and I'll give you the contact. Let me know when you've succeeded, and get him back here as soon as possible."

Krycek nodded, and started making plans.

~~~~~

He'd been observing the ranch for a couple of days when he started getting the feeling that he in turn was being watched, particularly at night. Discomforted, he did a full search of the area he was camped out in, and rechecked that he'd hidden the car well. Certain that he'd done nothing to alert anyone to his presence he carried on with his plans, but could not shake the nagging sense of unease.

Glendale's security was high tech, no obvious body guards that would make anyone curious and distrustful, but cameras covering all of the entrances, and much of the grounds. The smoking man's inside contact had hacked into the security system, and arranged for the specific cameras that he would be walking past to be looping through used footage. She'd also arranged for access to a swipe card and code to bypass security. Krycek had got enough tear gas to down anyone that came looking, and he had a dart gun for Glendale. The car was primed, full of gas, and ready to go, and he'd thought long and heard about where he would take Mulder so that they could have a few days together to wean Mulder off the drugs. After that he was open to suggestions.

Krycek checked his watch. He'd phoned his contact previously giving the prearranged signal for the looping to start at two in the morning, and it was fifteen minutes to two now. He pulled the ski mask over his face, slung the backpack on his back, and headed out from his hideout. It took him a good fifteen minutes to get to the access point at the east of the estate, and less than fifteen seconds to get in the secured gate. Hoping that his contact had fixed the cameras he kept in the shadows and made his way silently towards the nearest out houses. Taking cover he checked the surrounding area, and after taking a deep breath he crossed an open paddock that led towards the stables. On reaching them, he checked his timing and carefully began the most open part of his journey through the manicured lawns towards the back of the ranch house. His contact had pinpointed the rooms that Mulder could be in, and Krycek decided to get in via one of the ground floor windows near the swimming pool. The journey to the house seemed to take forever, and he kept checking his watch to make sure that he was keeping to time. Once at the house he checked the windows, took out some very specialist diamond tipped glasscutters, and cut a small hole by the handle. He fiddled with the latch lock, took a deep breath and had the window open within seconds. He waited anxiously for any suggestion that he'd tripped an alarm that had not been shown on the blueprints, but to his relief the specifications had been accurate. He slid through he window and stood silently in the room before him; mentally calling up the security information he had been given. Glendale had each individual piece alarmed separately. Krycek had been stunned at the intricacy and thoroughness of the system, but relieved that it left the rooms free as long as nothing was disturbed. He headed silently for the door and checked the handle. The door was locked so he used the pass card and keyed in the number, again holding his breath until the lock clicked, and he was able to slip through the door and into the hall way. He checked the area and quietly went up the circular staircase. At the top he stopped to get his bearings, took a left and counted down the rooms as he went. His contact had said that Mulder was possibly being held in the room next to Glendale's, and was hoping that his luck would hold out and he'd be right first time. The first door he tried opened, so he decided to try the room next to it. This door was locked. He checked the corridors, took a deep breath and again used the card.

He sidled into the room and stood for a while getting his bearings. The very large bed held two figures, and he moved towards it, sensing Mulder almost by smell. He approached cautiously and moved to the head of the bed. Mulder lay on his side, close to the edge of the bed. Glendale lay partly across him, his legs entangled with Mulder's, and one arm flung possessively over Mulder's torso. Krycek took a deep breath and raising his gun fired at the man watching impassively as the dart embedded itself in the man's shoulder. Glendale gave a start, raised himself slightly, and then collapsed onto his back. Krycek waited a few seconds, and then moved to rouse Mulder, pulling up his ski mask as he did so. He shook his shoulders, and slapped his face, as Mulder remained unconscious.

A couple of slaps later Mulder groaned, and opened his eyes. He blinked a couple of times, licked his lips, peered up at Krycek and whispered. "Alex?"

Krycek leaned forward and rubbed Mulder's cheek. "I'm getting you out of here," he said quietly. "Do you think you can stand?"

Mulder blinked again, and slowly raised his hands to touch Krycek's as it lay on his cheek. "Alex?" he said again, a little louder and more hopefully.

Krycek nodded. "Ready?" he asked, fighting an impulse to yell as he noticed the leather cuffs binding Mulder's hands together, and the chunky tagging bracelet.

Mulder gave him a dopey smile. "Alex," he said in confirmation, giving the word an almost reverential quality.

Krycek swallowed silently, mesmerised by Mulder's quiet happiness.

"Missed you," Mulder said, and reached up to give him a clumsy kiss.

Krycek closed his eyes momentarily. Trust you to show you care at the most inopportune times, Mulder, he thought desperately. "Can we get going?" he asked urgently.

Mulder sat unsteadily and slid to the end of the bed burrowing his head in Krycek's shoulder. Krycek felt a tremor pass through him, and despite his urgent desire to leave, stroked Mulder's head gently. Mulder took a deep breath and straightened up. "I've been so miserable, Alex," he said forlornly, and Krycek had a deep and desperate desire to kick Glendale into the middle of next week.

He bent down and slipping out his knife cut the leather cuffs restraining Mulder. "Clothes?" he whispered trying hard to ignore the nude body next to him. Mulder moved unsteadily towards a chair and dressed.

"No shoes," Mulder said slowly, blinking at Krycek, "His are too big, because I've tried." His eyes slid towards Glendale's silent body and away again.

Krycek took another breath and looked over at the drawers. "Socks?" he asked.

Mulder shook his head. Krycek counted to ten, gathered Mulder to him with his prosthetic arm, and headed for the door. They limped down the hallway, Mulder highly unsteady and inclined to snuggle into Krycek's side. Krycek's anger at Glendale increased exponentially the further they travelled. Mulder was doped up and out of it, and while he appreciated knowing finally that Mulder really did care for him, he would rather have found out when Mulder was in his right mind and when their lives weren't at risk. He tired desperately to ignore the whispered endearments and suggestions as to what they could get up to, and concentrated hard on steering Mulder down the stairs and into the living room. Once inside he propped Mulder against the wall, told him to stay put, and checked the area. Sensing nothing, he helped Mulder climb over the windowsill and slipped over to gather him in his arms. Mulder's shaking had increased; he was also sweaty and a little glassy eyed. He smiled tremulously at Krycek, bent forward to kiss him, and collapsed at his feet.

Krycek looked down at Mulder and sighed. He'd half expected something like this might happen and he was exceedingly grateful that they'd managed the stairs and the house. He pulled his mask down, gathered Mulder in his arms, and hitched him with some effort onto one shoulder. Mulder might be tall and lanky, but he was still no lightweight. Carefully supporting him he set off to retrace his journey back to his hideout. He was within the time they'd agreed as his associate wanted time to get out and erase any trace of her presence in Glendale's system before Mulder's absence was discovered. Half way towards the stables his luck ran out, behind him he could hear voices, and floodlights suddenly lit up the area. Cursing, he staggered on, unsure whether they would shoot at him with Mulder. A man's voice next to him shocked him almost rigid.

"Let me take Agent Mulder, Mr Krycek," it said. "I will have no difficulty in running with him."

Krycek glanced towards the voice meeting the amused eyes of the man who had called himself Louis when he'd last set eyes on him about three months previously in Mulder's bedroom. He glared at him, reluctant to give up Mulder, but all too aware of the need to run like hell. "What the fuck do you care?" he snarled, tightening his grip on Mulder and moving stubbornly towards the open fields.

"Agent Mulder is important to us. The situation with Glendale was most undignified, we do not approve of it."

Krycek glared at him. "For all I know you put him up to it," he said fiercely.

The man raised an eyebrow. "You will have to accept my word that we did not," he said calmly. "Give Mulder to me, Mr Krycek, and run."

Krycek glanced at the man, checked back at the house and saw lights fast approaching. "You better not be playing me for a fool," he said, and passed Mulder to the man with considerable reluctance. The man had Mulder over his shoulders and halfway across the field before Krycek could blink. Stamping down on his fears that he'd just placed Mulder and himself in even greater danger, he followed, making no attempt to find cover, just determined to get out as fast as possible. The man and Mulder had vanished from view as he forced himself forward, conscious of the slight imbalance in his stride caused by his prosthetic arm as he did so. The noise behind him was increasing in ferocity and spurred by concern over Mulder; he pushed himself to the limit and made the exit in less than ten minutes. Panting hard, he ran to the hidden car, relieved to find Mulder in the back already strapped in. Ignoring Louis, he leant back and checked Mulder's wrist for the bracelet, surprised and a little suspicious that it had already been removed. He pulled his head gear off, tossed it on the floor got in and started the car, keeping the headlights off for fear of attracting attention. Once they had started on the road north towards the border, he relaxed, turning on the headlights, and began to concern himself with more than escape.

"How did you get here?" he finally asked his helper.

Louis shrugged. "Not important," he said to Krycek's frustration. "I've been keeping an eye on you two, but lost Agent Mulder when Glendale snatched him. I followed you, rather fortuitously it seems."

"We told you last time we weren't interested in anything you had to offer us," Krycek said angrily.

"You do not fully understand what we can offer you," Louis replied, "and our interest in Mulder has become even greater the more fascinating things we discover about him."

Krycek stared angrily ahead, his foot hard on the accelerator as he battled to keep calm. He knew what the vampire was talking about, and didn't like to consider what that meant to Mulder in terms of his usefulness to the Consortium, never mind anyone else.

"What did you tell your employers about us?" Louis continued.

"A little as possible," Krycek muttered, glancing in the mirror and momentarily confused by the absence of anyone but Mulder. He glanced behind him to check, only remembering as he turned back that Louis's kind didn't reflect in mirrors.

"Are you frightened of us?" Louis asked.

"Should I be?" Krycek responded, fighting a desire to stop the car, grab Mulder and run. He could hear laughter and turned to glare briefly at his unwanted passenger. "You're an unknown," he said levelly. "And I like to reduce unknowns to the minimum. I have no idea what your agenda might be. When it comes down to it, you aren't human and your desires and concerns are different from ours."

"But I was human," Louis said somewhat unexpectedly. "I can understand your desires."

Krycek looked round again to see Louis looking at Mulder with an amused and slightly hungry expression on his face. "What desires are we talking about?" Krycek asked with a calmness he didn't feel.

"Hunger, lust, desire, want, need," the vampire said slowly, his eyes still fixed on Mulder.

Krycek slammed the brakes on and tuned round to face him. "Why are you watching us?" he demanded, reaching out to touch Mulder protectively. "What do you want from us? Are you doing this on your own?"

The vampire smiled and traced a finger along Mulder's neck. "I was assigned to Agent Mulder even before he took on the X-Files. We have been interested in him for a number of years because of his skills," he looked directly at Krycek. "We recruit, Krycek, and we want the best. His move to the X-Files intrigued and amused us. The brilliant profiler hunting his monsters, unaware of who was watching him. We discovered that we weren't the only ones watching, however. In fact as we delved deeper into his past we began to see that the men who make up the Consortium have been guiding and directing him from his youth." He stopped his stroking of Mulder's face and gave Krycek a wry smile. "It was through Mulder we learnt of the alien conspiracy, but to be truthful we felt that they were a sideshow, and an irrelevancy. In fact our British brethren's desire to create mischief has woken us up to the fact that we have been very wrong in our dismissal of this outside threat, and Glendale's abduction of Mulder has revealed even stranger truths about him and your employers." He returned his attention to Mulder, and Krycek gritted his teeth in annoyance as Louis continued to trace around Mulder's profile. "Can I suggest that you keep moving, Glendale does not like to be denied anything, and he's invested a considerable amount in Mulder."

"How do you know?" Krycek asked, returning his attention to the road ahead and gunning the car forward again.

"We do business with him from time to time," Louis replied.

"Fine," Krycek said impatiently. "I don't believe in altruism, not from humans and certainly not from vampires. You want Mulder; he's told you he's not interested. You want me, I've told you the same, so why are you really helping?"

Louis laughed again. "Are you always so suspicious?" he asked mockingly.

"It's what's kept me alive so far," Krycek said evenly.

"Is Mulder the only person you trust?" he asked, the mockery in his voice still obvious.

"What I feel for Mulder is no business of yours," Krycek said firmly.

"Does he trust you?"

"You'll have to ask Mulder that," Krycek answered, refusing to rise to the bait.

Louis gave a very human snort of amusement. "I helped you because we wanted Mulder out of there once we knew what was happening. We want you both, and we don't give up, but consider this, what are your orders regarding Mulder?"

Krycek remained silent waiting to see if Louis knew.

"I have no doubt that you have been told to take Mulder back to your employers. Mulder's not going to be happy about that, or were you thinking of running off into the sunset with him?"

"Fuck you," Krycek said irritably.

Louis laughed. "I'd be delighted to, Alex Krycek. You and Fox Mulder are a thoroughly desirable couple you know. I'm still a little unclear how you managed to get him into your bed considering your history, but I'm hoping you'll enlighten me soon."

Krycek felt like he'd fallen into an episode of the Twilight zone, and that was saying something considering the nature of his work. He checked the mirror for any sign of pursuers, wanting desperately to kill the engine and face the vampire and work out what the hell was going on, but they weren't far enough away from Glendale's yet. "How long have your kind been around?" he asked with real curiosity, turning abruptly as he heard Mulder groan.

"Keep going, I'll see to him," Louis ordered.

Reluctantly Krycek obeyed, flicking glances in the mirror as he watched Mulder being pulled by an apparently invisible force. He glanced quickly back to see Mulder cradled in the vampire's lap.

"He's okay," Louis said. "I'd imagine the sudden exercise, excitement and his drugged condition all combined to overwhelm him. His pupils are dilated, but he's breathing well, and I think he'll be conscious fairly soon."

"Good," Krycek said, desperate for Mulder to be facing this with him.

"Way back into prehistory."

Krycek sat puzzled for a second, and then realised Louis was answering his question. "Where did you originate?"

"We don't seem to have a clear picture of that," the vampire answered then suddenly cocked his head. "Helicopter," he said harshly. "Stop the car, Krycek and let me drive. I can see in the dark"

"Helicopter?" Krycek asked incredulously, but he could hear the urgency in the vampire's voice. He stopped, grabbed the flashlight from the front pocket, got out and moved to the back as Louis slithered out and moved into the drivers seat. He cut the lights and began driving. Krycek pulled Mulder into his lap and bent down to kiss his nose.

Mulder stirred and muttered, "Alex?" very quietly.

"I'm here," Krycek said, tightening his hold on Mulder.

Mulder blinked and slowly opened his eyes, "You're a sight for sore eyes," he said faintly. "I hoped you'd find me, Alex," he blinked again and raised an unsteady hand to brush at Krycek's face. "The bastard drugged me, made me into a living Ken doll."

"Ken doll?" Krycek echoed, wondering what the hell Mulder was talking about.

"Barbie and Ken dolls, the kids dress them up." Mulder explained, continuing his exploration of Krycek's face.

Krycek nodded, impatient to get to the important stuff. "Did he touch you, Fox?" he asked quietly.

Mulder dropped his eyes and hands and even in the dark Krycek could see the pained expression on his face. "Yes," he said slowly, and shivered. He pressed his head into Krycek's stomach. "I couldn't fight him, Alex, and that was the most humiliating thing."

Krycek bent down and kissed Mulder's hair petting him gently. He wasn't sure what to say, and any assurances would be premature, as they were still very vulnerable to attack and possible recapture. He looked up as he felt Louis's gaze on them, but the mirror gave no reflection and Louis had his head forward staring into the darkness. He looked back at Mulder who had a puzzled expression on his face.

"Who is driving the car?" Mulder asked.

"I am," Louis answered from the front seat.

Mulder leant forward and peered into the front seat before collapsing back onto Krycek's lap. "Fuck," he said quietly. He looked up at Krycek. "Why is he driving?"

Krycek shrugged. "He heard a helicopter, and he can drive without lights."

Mulder blinked and appeared to accept the explanation. "But why is he with us?" he asked a few moments later.

Krycek shook his head. "I don't think you really want to know," he said quietly. "They're still interested in us."

Mulder shook his head, then groaned clasping his hand to his forehead. "Goddamn drugs," he muttered. "We told them we weren't interested last time," he continued, rubbing his head slowly.

"Hold tight," Louis ordered, and Krycek grabbed hold of Mulder and braced himself. The car rocked down an incline shaking them vigorously as it did so. He could hear Mulder's quickened breathing, and faintly in the distance he thought he could hear the thud of a helicopter blade. The car halted and the door was flung open before he could react.

"Get out and go down there," the vampire hissed, and pulling Mulder with him, Krycek left the car and clambered for what appeared to be a cave entrance. He glanced back into the night but could see nothing.

"I feel sick," Mulder muttered, but kept on going.

Krycek pulled him into the cave switching on the flash as he did so. The place seemed clean and dry, but he wished he'd thought to grab a couple of blankets out of the trunk before leaving the car.

"Where are we?" Mulder whispered, as Krycek helped him sit down. "I know we're in Texas, but I couldn't pinpoint exactly where Glendale's ranch was."

Krycek pulled him close, enjoying the luxury of being able to protect and comfort Mulder without any complaint from the normally reserved and independent man. "Quite near the Oklahoma and Arkansas borders. I was intending to get us to Little Rock and charter a flight out to a secure place I know."

"Why not take me back home?" Mulder asked. "I need to let Scully know I'm okay."

Krycek tightened his grip around him. "We have a slight problem, Mulder. The smoking man was the one who found out where you were, and, fortunately for us, he sent me." He felt Mulder stiffen in his arms and automatically bent forward to kiss him. "He doesn't know anything about us, but he thought you might be willing to accept help from someone you knew, even if it was your enemy." He scattered a few kisses on Mulder's brow. "You're very important to the Consortium's plans," he continued.

"My genetic inheritance," said Mulder, dully.

Krycek felt Mulder's shudder as he said the words and returned to calming him. "I didn't know, Fox, he said gently. "I was as shocked as I assume you were. You're important to the project for many reasons, but ultimately I think they see you as their possible saviour."

Mulder burrowed deeper into Krycek's arms trembling. Krycek rocked him, making soothing noises, hating Glendale for making Mulder so defenceless, but despite himself loving the way that Mulder turned to him for comfort.

"I hate this, " Mulder muttered, "I feel so damn weak and pathetic, Alex."

Krycek nuzzled in his hair again. "You're not," he whispered. "I told you I wanted a relationship with you, Mulder. I want to protect and care for you as much as I'd like you to be there for me when I need comforting."

Mulder twisted in his arms and started up at him. Krycek's eyes had adapted to the darkness of the cave and he could see the look of disbelief on Mulder's face. "You want me to comfort you?" Mulder asked, the incredulity spilling over into his voice. "Big bad Krycek wants someone to cuddle him?"

Krycek shrugged. "Why not, Mulder?" he answered quietly, refusing to allow Mulder to get a rise from him. "I can take care of myself, I've been doing so for years, but that doesn't mean that I never wanted a loving pair of arms to support me when things get bad."

Mulder lifted a hand to Krycek's face and with trembling fingers outlined Krycek's face. "I've spent a long time thinking of you as a cold, emotionless, rat bastard," he admitted quietly. "Although when I think of it, your eyes have never been cold, they have always shown your true emotions, I've just never read them right."

Krycek gave into temptation and grasping Mulder's face in one hand brushed his lips along Mulder's. He felt Mulder's lips tremble, then open allowing him to lick his tongue along the lips he loved so much. He pulled Mulder's head in tighter, placed his lips firmly on Mulder's and kissed him passionately. Mulder groaned, opened his lips wider and let him take control. After a few seconds Krycek gentled his kissing and gently nibbled Mulder's lower lip. "You do things to me, Mulder," he said quietly, and even in the dim light he could see Mulder's lips curl into a lopsided smile.

"I'm getting to enjoy the fact," Mulder admitted quietly, running his hand along Krycek's face again. "I wanted you so much when I was there. Glendale doped me with some kind of aphrodisiac and I was so damn horny at times."

"Did he rape you?" Krycek asked fiercely.

Mulder shrugged. "Yes, but not quite in the way you mean. He took over every aspect of my life but my thoughts. And he made himself very familiar with my body, but he was waiting for me to beg him to fuck me, and I was damned if I was going to give him the satisfaction."

"So he upped the drugs?" Krycek guessed.

Mulder gave a shaky laugh. "I've hardly been able to walk straight in the last few days," he said bitterly. "Even thinking has been an effort."

"I should have killed him," Krycek snarled.

"That would not have been sensible," Louis's voice sounded near them, and Krycek saw him slip towards them. "Glendale is a big player, his death would have uncovered a number of things, and I think his capture of Agent Mulder would have become part of the investigation. Not something I think you want in the public domain, Mulder?"

Krycek felt Mulder's shivers as he watched the vampire sit close to them.

"No," Mulder whispered. "Glendale has photographs and videos of me in somewhat compromising situations. In the end I think I could make my case of unlawful abduction, but my reputation, poor as it is, would be totally shot to pieces." He was silent for a few seconds then shifted slightly in Krycek's arms, but made no effort to pull away. "What's your interest in this?" he asked Louis.

"Two fold," Louis said calmly. "The two of you have been rather circumspect about your experiences in England, but we are well aware that our British brethren thought to use you to distract us. Their ploy has succeeded; we have decided that we want to be players in the game now we know that the alien threat is real. We are also intrigued by the news of your birthright, Fox Mulder."

"Why, what do have blood sucking dead things have to fear from aliens?" Mulder said somewhat bullishly. "Or is your concern more that your food source might be destroyed or tainted. You'll probably find both Krycek and me pretty unpalatable, not that I intend to be a dinner helping, but Krycek's had an alien in him, and I've been inoculated against them. Plus at the moment my blood's so full of drugs you'd probably find it poisonous, and if I find that either Krycek or myself start to dislike sunlight, become too obedient or get spooked by religious symbols I'll make sure that I stake you myself."

Krycek wanted to laugh, but he kept quiet and waited for Louis' response while wondering what exactly was happening outside of the cave.

Louis did laugh. "I like you, Mulder," he said. "As to your blood at this moment in time, you're right, I wouldn't be choosing you for a lunch time snack." He turned towards Krycek. "The oilien, has it left markers in your blood?"

Krycek grimaced. "Before we settle down for a bed time story, what's going on outside?"

Louis smiled. "We're leading Glendale's men a fine dance," he said, somewhat mysteriously.

"We?" Krycek asked, his concerns about the rather too fortuitous arrival of the vampire, and his sense of being watched confirming his worst fears. "You set me up didn't you? You weren't helping me you were trapping both of us."

Louis shrugged, "You would never have made it from Glendale's with Mulder unless I'd helped," he said. "Yes, I suppose we did set you up, but, as I said at our first meeting, I can assure you our interest in Mulder and yourself is far more professional than Glendale's."

"Whoopee," Mulder muttered wearily, shifting yet again within Krycek's arms. "Is this the proverbial out of the frying pan into the fire type moment? Don't you 'people' understand the words, 'not interested', and 'get lost', or was our English contact bullshitting us with his 'we only take those that want to crossover' line. And come to that, I've never understood how you found out about what was said to us, or where exactly your loyalties lie?"

Louis stood abruptly, the speed of his movement reminding Krycek in no uncertain terms that despite his appearance, Louis was not human and very powerful. "Our loyalty is to our kind, Mulder, and we have a very fast and reliable information network among ourselves. As to your other question, we're persistent, persuasive and immortal, Mulder. We may not take those that genuinely do not want to join us, but neither are we willing to be denied our chance of those that have so much to offer us. I offer you a choice, come with us, or stay and risk your inevitable discovery by Glendale's men. I give you five minutes to reach a decision." He moved away from them and back towards the cave entrance.

Krycek sighed, angry and frustrated, wondering what to say. He was a little startled to feel Mulder's hand on his shoulder, but said nothing as Mulder slowly sat himself up, leaning against the wall next to him.

"I haven't got the strength to walk, never mind run from anyone," Mulder said dejectedly. "I'm sorry, Alex. You risk life and limb for me, and get screwed for it."

Krycek pulled him into his side and leant his head against Mulder's. "I couldn't have left you there, Fox," he said quietly. "Knowing what Glendale was likely to be doing to you was driving me mad."

Mulder gave a strangled snort, half way between a laugh and a sob. "I think I can definitely say that my life has become a soap opera. I thought about Scully and Skinner sailing in with the backing of the FBI, I worried about Scully, and how she was coping with my disappearance. I tried hard not to think of my apparent heritage, and was unable to wrap my mind round the fact that a millionaire abducted me to add to his collection of 'beautiful and rare things'." He sighed. "But do you know what was my biggest hope, the main thing that kept me from going insane?"

Krycek shook his head.

Mulder gave another anguished snort. "That the man who had been my worst enemy, but was now my lover would come and rescue me." He shook his head. "How fucking pathetic is that, Alex? That I look to you, not my partner, for salvation?"

Krycek sighed, deciding to ignore the second part of the question. He had enough guilt when it came to Dana Scully without being reminded that one of Mulder's main problems with their relationship was fear of his partner's rejection if she ever found out about them. "If I can't get you to understand that I'd do anything for you, Mulder, then I think I've failed to make you understand why I wanted you in the first place." He stood up and held out his hand to Mulder. "Come on, I've done enough waiting."

Mulder sighed, turned slowly onto his knees and took Krycek's hand. Krycek pulled him up and without thinking gathered him into a hug. Mulder dropped his head on Krycek's shoulder and slowly returned the gesture. As he stood holding the long, lean form, Krycek's anger returned as he felt the trembling in Mulder's arms. A drop of moisture hit his neck, and realised that Mulder was crying. He tightened his hold on the man with his prosthesis, and began to slowly stroke Mulder's hair with his real hand as he waited for him to calm. Mulder gave a long sniff, wiped at his eyes and raised his head.

"Thank you, Alex," he whispered, and gave him a long, gentle kiss that curled Krycek's toes with pleasure and relief, then with the lightening change of direction that gave Krycek more reassurance than anything else that Mulder was beginning to return to himself he added. "Did I ever tell you that Mike's group call them Leeches?"

Krycek frowned. "The vampires?"

Mulder nodded, slowly disengaging from the hug. "He said Vaughan had coined it. I must admit it seems very appropriate, so shall we go and tell our resident Leech that we're taking our chances with him?"

Krycek nodded.

 

~~~~~~~~~

As Mulder improved, the drugs finally leaving his system, Krycek got quieter and more withdrawn. Contemplating the still form Mulder slowly began to take a little more notice of his surroundings. Krycek had looked after him over the past few days because he needed him, but now, as the trembling, weakness and unsteadiness faded, Mulder needed him less and less, and Krycek was beginning to turn in on himself. Mulder looked around the spacious room and frowned. They had everything they might need at hand, except of course their freedom, and Krycek had spent hours looking for every conceivable exit before admitting defeat. The blood, skin, and, more embarrassingly, semen samples were taken in the room, but apart from that, they were left to their own devices. They had TV, videos, CD, even a Gameboy and a Playstation at their disposal. No computer or web access, no telephones to the outside, but their captors intended for them to be comfortable and entertained. Mulder looked round the well-lit room and was suddenly embarrassed by his self-obsession. They were in a basement, or an internal room without windows, and he knew enough of Krycek's history to understand his reaction to this.

"Alex," he said cautiously, moving towards the tightly huddled figure on the bed. "Alex, does this remind you of your time in the silo?" Krycek froze, shivering with reaction as Mulder gently stroked his hand down his back. "Was it dark in there, enclosed and airless?" he murmured. "Were you remembering being alone, without food, drink or company? Abandoned by the alien who forced you to carry it." Mulder stroked down Krycek's head and moved forward to gently massage him tense shoulders. "You've got me now," he whispered. "You're not alone, I won't leave you, Alex. I need you to be strong for me." The tenseness in the body below him slowly ebbed away, and Krycek slowly straightened out. Mulder kept up his gentle massage until Krycek did a rapid roll, and knelt up to face him.

"Thank you for the sweet talking," Krycek said wryly, then captured Mulder's head and proceeded to kiss him with rough passion, not reigning in his kisses or obvious desire as he had been doing for the past few days.

Mulder groaned when his lips were released and allowed Krycek to push him down on the bed and ravage his mouth again.

"I want you, Fox," Krycek panted, his voice low, dangerous and so sexy. "I've wanted you ever since you said my name when I rescued you. I wanted you when you were doped to your eyes and whispering endearments in my ear. I wanted you when you clung to me in that cave. I wanted you as you slowly came off the drugs, and my god, Fox, I want you now more than I can say."

Mulder swallowed rapidly, his arousal spiking as Krycek spoke. He was putty in this man's hands, and he wasn't even sure if Krycek knew just how willing he was to let him take control. It bothered him in many ways his willingness to let Krycek take the lead sexually. He'd gone from an abstentious man whose only relationship was with his own hand, and his telephone, to someone who purred when Krycek touched him in a certain way, and afterwards, in the cold light of day, he felt a little ashamed of himself. It wasn't that Krycek was a selfish lover, far from it, but he remained a predator in bed, and Mulder not only allowed it, but also often encouraged it, and afterwards questioned his motives. Damning his ability to self analyse and guilt trip himself at the most inopportune of moments, he closed his eyes and went with the flow. "I'm want you, too, Alex," he said lightly, reaching up to stroke down Krycek's arm. "I'm yours you know."

Krycek nuzzled his neck, and he shivered. "Damn right you are," Krycek whispered. "You're my one weakness, Mulder, the only one I've ever let come close to really knowing me. The one weakness I haven't been willing to overcome. The weakness that could destroy me." He licked Mulder's neck and bit down hard. Mulder groaned in a mixture of pain and pleasure. "Tell me what you dreamed about me."

Mulder shivered. "Everything," he murmured, trying to calm the sexual tension a little. "I imagined you on white charger, shield in one hand, lance in the other challenging Glendale to battle."

"Liar," Krycek murmured, and sniggered.

Mulder relaxed a little. "All right, you were on a Harley Davidson, dressed from head to toe in leather, with a sub machine gun in one hand and a grenade in the other."

Krycek laughed, and kissed his ear. "Now that's a little more likely," he agreed. "So when I rescued the fair Fox, what reward did I get?"

"Fair Fox?" Mulder said indignantly. "Angry, confused and drugged to the gills maybe, but never fair, Alex." He ignored the snort and carried on. "Fox showed his appreciation in a manner appropriate to any Harlequin Romance, he fainted."

Krycek laughed again. "Imagine that your rescuer has you stripped naked and is running his hands up and down you, stopping occasionally to kiss you senseless."

He demonstrated, leaving Mulder breathless and highly aroused. "Do I have to imagine the naked bit?" he asked a little too eagerly.

Krycek laughed again, and began to pull at the zipper of his jeans. Mulder helped him as they were skintight. After a few breathless minutes, interspersed with kissing, both of them were naked, except that Krycek had kept his prosthesis on, and highly aroused. Mulder swallowed and took up the narrative.

"I'd imagine lying with you, exchanging kisses as we slowly rubbed against each other."

Krycek wriggled a little, pulled Mulder towards him and began kissing. Mulder reached down between them, and wrapped his hand round both their erections, eliciting a delightful shiver from his lover. He slowly rubbed them, then pressed himself to Krycek and shimmied against him. Krycek replied, still kissing, and they slowly kissed and rubbed together.

Krycek broke the kiss. "What next? " he asked, his eyes glittering with passion.

Mulder took a couple of deep breaths. "We do a sixty nine. You prepare me and blow me, while I gently tease you and get you ready for the main event."

Krycek groaned. "Fox, once those lips get anywhere near my cock it's only aim is to get between them and be blown. I'll give you the best blow job of your life, but if you want the best fuck of your life, you keep your lips and hands on my torso."

Mulder frowned. "I need to touch you, Alex,"

Krycek groaned, kissing him deeply. "I'm trusting you, Fox," he warned, and Mulder gave him a huge grin.

The next minutes were a real test of his ability to delay gratification. He concentrated on licking and kissing Krycek's ass, and giving his cock occasional kisses, but as Krycek's wickedly able lips kissed, sucked and licked along his erection he began to lose control, and when a single, slick covered finger pushed into him he gave up doing anything but dancing to his lover's ministrations. He'd never been a silent lover, not even when he pleased himself, although he'd taught himself to be a as quiet as possible, but with Krycek he lost control early on, and gasped and groaned at every flick of Krycek's skilled tongue. Krycek thrust another finger in him, gave a long suck, and he came crying "Alex," gasping inelegantly for breath. Krycek turned himself round, and kissed him enthusiastically, sitting back to smile down at him.

"You liked that," he said with justifiable pride, "and you're going to love the next bit, Fox."

Mulder nodded, allowing Krycek to arrange him how he wanted until he was on his front, ass slightly raised, and writhing tiredly but contentedly as Krycek stretched him a little more. He murmured happily as he felt Krycek's cock begin to breach him, and slowed his breathing as he was entered. His back was covered with kisses as Krycek rocked slowly into him, teasing at his hot spot, and giving little spurts of laughter as he mewled his delight which shook his body and added to the pleasure. Somehow he managed to keep up the slow rocking until Mulder was begging him to move, take him, claim him, promising him anything to get him to go harder, deeper, longer. With a sudden growl Krycek took him at his word, and Mulder hung on for the ride of his life as Krycek took him screaming into oblivion.

He came round cuddled in Krycek's arm and opened his eyes to a very smug looking lover. "Big wuss!" Krycek said, smiling lovingly at him. "I told you it would be good, Fox."

Mulder stretched and grimaced. "Nearly blew my head off, Alex," he agreed sleepily, deciding that Krycek deserved to be smug after all his hard work. "Hope no one was listening in."

"Fuck 'em," Krycek said inelegantly, and yawned.

"I wonder how they do," Mulder pondered. "Jack was obviously keeping Mike satisfied, but how do you show passion if you don't breathe, sweat, have a heartbeat…" he stopped at a growl from his lover.

"I don't give a flying fuck, Mulder," Krycek growled. "I just want you to stop talking, and thinking, and go to sleep." He pulled Mulder tighter into him, and Mulder realised he must have been out for longer than he realised since he was not only cleaned up, but Krycek had taken off his prosthesis in readiness for sleep. He nuzzled up to Krycek and fell asleep in minutes.

He woke to darkness, and the familiar feeling of another's presence. From the tenseness of the body next to him he knew that Krycek was already awake. He kissed the shoulder nearest him and hitched himself up the bad, automatically offering Krycek a helping hand, and settling into him again when they lay against the bed head. Krycek said nothing, but the return kiss on his shoulder was soft and affectionate.

"You couldn't have made an appointment?" he asked, more to break the tension.

The figure glided over the bed and sat next to him. Mulder gave a little shiver as Louis smiled at him reaching forward to brush his hair from his face. Krycek growled, and Mulder wondered if Louis was trying to bait them

"Want to find out how effective a lover a vampire can be?" he asked Mulder, his eyes fixed on Krycek as he spoke.

Mulder gave Krycek brownie points for not rising to the bait. "Perfectly satisfied with the human one I have now," he replied mildly. "Don't you think it's rather impolite listening in on our conversations?"

Louis laughed. "Watching you two is even better, Mulder," he said "I can't remember the last time two humans entertained me so much."

"Got it on film so you can remind yourself what being human is all about?" Krycek taunted. "Into men are you, or as long as it breathes you don't care?"

Louis shrugged, baring his teeth at Krycek in manner that had goose pimples marching over Mulder's skin. "Men or women, it doesn't matter, it's the blood type, then the characters and the personality that I go for, and you two have got just what I like. Plus both of you are damn good to look at." He grinned again, and brushed Mulder's face lightly.

Mulder swallowed. "Do you think you could leave off the Alex baiting?" he asked politely, relieved when the vampire's grin acknowledged his hit.

"It's fun," Louis offered.

"And dangerous," Krycek offered mildly. He wriggled against the bed board and settled himself a little more firmly against Mulder. "So what can we do for you and your masters, Louis? When are you letting us go, surely you've got enough samples now? It must be obvious to you that neither Mulder or I have changed our minds since we've been here, so what's the hold up?"

Louis sat back, his gaze flicking between the two of them. "We've been talking with your superiors, Alex. Apparently you didn't really go into too much detail about us, and your boss is curious as to why. I told him that you didn't approve of us and he seemed to be highly amused. He was also concerned that you weren't hurting Mulder, and vice versa. I gather his understanding of your relationship is somewhat incorrect?"

Krycek glanced at Mulder and nodded.

"Don't worry, I didn't correct him, I just said that the two of you were fine, and that you, Fox were only just recovering from the drugging. He seemed to assume that your 'violent tendencies' towards Alex were muted." He laughed. "I would be happy for you to have violent tendencies towards me, dear Fox, if we ended up like you and Alex."

"You lack the charm, good looks, charisma, history and most importantly life," Krycek said dismissively.

Mulder snorted, but refused to be distracted. "Why exactly are you cosying up with the Consortium? Have you become sudden believers in the dangers of an alien invasion?"

Louis nodded. "We like our food stock to be free range, and disease free, Fox. We don't want any destruction of our food supplies, so in a sense the Consortium and ourselves share something in common."

"You can't trust them," Mulder said emphatically. "They'll screw your kind over, Louis, but then I'm sure you'll be attempting to do exactly the same to them." He narrowed his eyes, "I'd be hard put to decide just whom I consider the greater evil," he said consideringly.

Louis laughed. "We would like to help you decide, Mulder. We are well aware of the duplicity of the Consortium. We also want to be involved with the other side. The Resistance I believe you call it?"

Mulder froze, feeling a similar tension in Krycek.

Louis smiled. "Alex, I could let you free and keep Fox here. There are many vampires here, male and female, all are interested in Fox for his blood, many are interested in him for other reasons, myself included. Or I could let Fox go, and while your blood is not of use to us at the moment, you have attracted as much interest as your lover. Do you understand me both?"

"You think that by threatening me you can make Alex betray the resistance?" Mulder asked angrily. "Well screw you. Too many lives are at risk for that."

Louis looked at Krycek who was pale, but angry. "Is that so, Alex?"

Krycek shivered. "I don't want Mulder hurt, but he's right, neither of us are going to let you use the other."

Louis smiled. "And your partner, Scully, Mulder. Are you willing to risk her life? She's important to you, isn't she? The Consortium have always known that, threaten Scully, and you threaten Mulder. No wonder you and Alex live in fear of your relationship being discovered."

"Leave Scully out of this," Mulder growled. "Yes, I love Scully, she is important to me."

"Yet you sleep with Alex," Louis said mildly.

"I'm not in love with Scully," Mulder said impatiently, then froze as he realised what he had implied. Krycek's hand gently grasped his chin and turned him to so they were facing each other.

"Have you ever thought yourself in love with Scully?" Krycek enquired softly.

Mulder nodded, taken aback by the gentle, loving look in Krycek's eyes. "A couple of times, " he admitted, " and perhaps if we'd ever done anything about the latent attraction between us I wouldn't be here now, but it settled into a platonic, non sexual love that seems to suit us both." He sighed ruefully. "I don't do relationships well, Alex, and I'm dangerous to those I care for."

Louis laughed, breaking the moment. "Who knew I could play cupid," he said, without a trace of irony. "I was actually hoping to get into bed with both of you, but perhaps you don't do threesomes?"

"No!" Krycek said explosively.

"Never tried," Mulder said automatically, somewhat unsettled and perturbed by Louis' swings from baiting, flirting and threatening.

Louis stood from the bed and looked down at him. "Give me a contact with the resistance, or make yourselves the contact. Either way we want to talk. What is the saying, Fox? Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer?"

"I believe it was Oscar Wilde who said that a man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies," Mulder said quietly. He looked at Krycek and back at Louis. "Unfortunately our choices seem to have been made for us."

Louis smiled, but shook his head. "You may see us as the enemy, Fox, but when it comes down to it we don't want humanity dead. We want a sustainable food source, and to do that we need humanity alive and healthy. Surely we have that in common with you and your resistance friends?" He moved towards the door. "You can both go soon. We have enough information on you now. The oilien has left markers in your blood, Alex, but we think we can overcome that. Your blood seems totally human, Fox, but your tissue samples are far less clear-cut. For now we are satisfied with what we have, but we won't forget you, nor will we give up on you, you are both far too interesting subjects for that." He smiled in a way that had Mulder leaning into Krycek. "A Harley Davidson, leathers, helmets and fuel will be put at you disposal. We will release you some distance from here." He contemplated Krycek carefully. "Can you control a bike with your prosthesis, Alex?"

Mulder felt Krycek stiffen. "Yes," he growled, never taking his eyes off the vampire. Why not ask me if I can handle one? Mulder thought somewhat affronted. What is it about Alex that makes people automatically assume he's the dangerous one, and the one in control? He glanced at his enraged lover and found the answer himself. Krycek looked dangerous even nude. He sighed consoling himself with the thought that if people wanted to dismiss him, they did so at their own risk. He might not appear as dangerous as his lover, but he was no pussy when it came to defending himself or others.

Louis nodded. "We have altered your prosthesis a little, Alex. You should find it even more flexible and adaptable to your needs now, not that it wasn't a pretty effective before." He raised his hand in farewell, and appeared to vanish before their eyes.

Mulder blinked, looking cautiously at Krycek who was staring at his prosthesis with angry incredulity. "Shower, clothes, and out of here," he said firmly standing and pulling Krycek up with him. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Alex."

"An enemy's gifts are not gifts and do no good," Krycek returned, his angry gaze softening as he took in Mulder's naked form.

"Many hands make light work," Mulder said grinning.

"Too many cooks spoil the broth," Krycek replied, his stance relaxing and a smile flickering at his lips.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder," Mulder supplied, hunting for a towel.

There was silence from Krycek for a moment as he contemplated his answer; his eyes never stirring from Mulder's body. "All I can come up with is 'familiarity breeds contempt', but I don't believe that at all," he said, "at least it never has where you're concerned. The more I see the more I want of you." He walked up to Mulder and pulled him into a fierce one-handed hug. "I won't let you go, Fox," he said tightly.

Mulder returned the hug. "I haven't asked you to, Alex," he said gently. "Our relationship might be due to your persistence and refusal to take no for an answer, but have you heard me saying no of late?" He stroked the shiny head slowly, realising that for all his front, his lover was unsure about his standing in Mulder's life. "I know what you are, Alex, I know what you've been. I know what and for whom you really work for. I've accepted our different perspective on our shared history. If you want honesty, then perhaps a homosexual relationship with a man I can't take out to meals, show off to friends or plan a future with is not how I saw my life going, but then knowing the type of life I lead, who could I realistically ask to share it, but someone like you?

"There is that," Krycek admitted with a faint chuckle, he let go of Mulder and slapped his ass. "Shower then, and while we're showering perhaps you could decide exactly what you're going to tell your partner and your boss about your whereabouts for the past weeks, and how you were rescued."

Mulder groaned. "The truth tempered with a little circumspection," he sighed. "Skinner isn't going to like it, and when I mention vampires he's going to shut down completely. Scully will look at me as if I need a long holiday, and trying to write up any of this is going to give me an ulcer. As to my supposed alien heritage, well I've refused to contemplate the truth of that because it scares me rigid, and neither Scully or Skinner are hearing about it from me." He sighed, allowing Krycek to push him into the shower cubicle." He absently allowed Krycek to wash him down, exchanging the favour for him, and dried and dressed silently, still brooding over what he should say and do when he got to Washington DC.

"What do we do about the resistance?" he asked.

"Leave that to me," Krycek said firmly.

Mulder nodded, rubbing his hair dry and sat on the edge of the bed. "I'm going to get the Gunmen to check Glendale for anything I can work on," he said absently. "You know the bastard set someone up as a serial killer to pull Scully and me in?"

Krycek nodded.

"He's got to pay, Alex," Mulder said seriously. "He's an amoral son of a bitch, and he boasted about the police, judges and politicians he had bought. Whatever I do has got to be sneaky, and hurt him where he least expects it. If I do anything on a legal basis he'll win. I've got to convince Skinner not to pursue him for abduction. Do you have any evidence that I was there that would convince Skinner?"

Krycek nodded. "Cancerman has photos and film on disc I'll get you a copy."

Mulder sighed. "Thanks," he said absently, running his hand along his face and down his chin and neck. "Will you get into trouble over this?"

Krycek shrugged his shoulder, concentrating on fitting his prosthesis comfortably over his stump. He shrugged the straps over his back and plugged himself in, moving his shoulders as he did so. Mulder watched him in fascination as he fiddled with the strap and arm then closed his eyes and relaxed. He'd seen Krycek do this a number of times, but he still enjoyed watching the man mentally prepare for action. Krycek took a few deep breaths, and opened his eyes to smile at Mulder before stretching both arms behind him and then bringing them forward and grasping his flesh and artificial hand together. "They've made it fit better," he said grudgingly. "My stump doesn't twist in the socket so much, and the elbow has more control." He reached down for his boots, and with both hands, and had both boots on and strapped in seconds.

"You're damn impressive," Mulder said truthfully.

Krycek smiled. "So are you lover." He finished dressing, and joined him on the bed laying back. "So now we wait."

Mulder sighed and joined him. He thought for a minute, then offered "Waiting for the end, boys, waiting for the end. What is there to be or do? What's become of me or you? Are we kind or are we true? Sitting two and two, boys, waiting for the end." He looked at Krycek who grinned at him.

"Damn impressive and totally mad," he said affectionately, and wrapped his real arm round him. "But I'll take more."

Mulder laughed, and despite his worries for the future briefly felt at peace.

 

The end

Note: 'Waiting for the end, boys' by William Empson from Just a Smack at Auden.


End file.
